


With or Without You

by orphan_account



Category: Westworld (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23770924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You had always promised you would never leave Lee's side, but is there an extent to that?
Relationships: Lee Sizemore/Reader
Kudos: 3





	With or Without You

"It's my fucking speech anyway," Lee hissed as he snatched the gun from Hector, urging him to leave with Maeve and the company, but you were frozen, shaking your head as you gripped the writer's arm. "(y/n), go." 

"Not without you," you pleaded, pushing Hector's hand from your shoulder as you refused to leave your lover's side. "Not without you, Lee, I'm not going anywhere without you." 

Giving you a chaste kiss, one that told you he was sorry and he didn't want to leave you just yet, Lee cocked the gun, and stood up, clearing his throat as he approached the security team. 

"We have to go," Hector urged you as Lee started to recite the speech he had been so proud of. "Come on." 

You shook your head, pushing him away and looking over at Lee, tears augmenting in your eyes as your voice cracked, the sounds of gunshots deafening. "Not without him! You lot can go, I'm not leaving without Lee!" 

Maeve frowned, the sense of urgency causing her to sigh as she looked up the trail before looking at you, a sadness in her eyes, she understood your pain all too well. "(y/n), please, come with us." 

"No!" You howled, shooing them away. "Go! I'll be fine." 

With a shared look, Hector and Maeve reluctantly started to leave the company away, but not before giving you tight hugs and sorrowful goodbyes; when you turned to look over at Lee, you couldn't see him, and your face fell as you swallowed thickly, shaking your head. The guns stopped firing. The car left to chase after Maeve and the company, but you knew that they would never catch up. Sniffling, you shook your head, running over to the tree that Lee had stood behind for cover. 

"Fuck, no, no, no," you whispered, face falling as you sniffled and started to think that the worst had happened. "Fuck, not Lee, please…" 

You collapsed by his side, one hand on his cheek and the other on his chest as you felt the tears start to roll and cascade down your features; he was bleeding, a lot, multiple gunshot wounds to his side and his hip. But upon seeing you, he managed to muster up a crooked smile. 

"You should've left," he groaned, blood on his lips that you wiped away with your sleeve. "You should've gone with the others." 

You shook your head, pressing your forehead against his. "I said I wouldn't leave without you, and I meant it." 

"They'll come for you," he seethed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, too weak to hold you, his voice fading with each word that left his bloodied lips. "You need to go, love, I'll be fine." 

"I'm not leaving without you," you whispered, shaking your head, hands trembling. "I'm not fucking leaving you! They'll… those bastards are gonna have to kill me, first." 

"They probably will," he managed to say, his voice hardly audible. "Please, love, go. I'll find you." 

"Never," you told him fiercely. "I don't care if they kill me, I'm  _ not  _ fucking leaving you, Lee. I'll never leave you." 

"I love you…" he groaned, his eyes closing and his body going limp beneath your touch, blood soaking his clothes so much that the smell was impossible to ignore, but you refused to leave, you could never leave him.

You whined, holding back a pained sob as you shakily leaned down to kiss him, not caring about the coppery taste of blood, not caring that he didn't kiss back as you did your best to hold back the urge to cry out and to find the people that had shot him. "I'm gonna get you out of here. We're gonna get out of here, even if it's the last thing I do, even if it kills me, we're getting the fuck out of Dodge and going home. I promise." 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

It took great effort to get Lee out of the park, dodging Delos security and doing your best not to agitate his wounds, and it was an even greater feat to get him to a hospital; but you did it, and for a week, he was placed in a medically induced coma. He needed a blood transfusion, and several different surgeries to remove the bullets. He was in bad shape when the doctors got to him, and they told you that it was entirely possible and likely that he wouldn't wake up, he wouldn't come back. But you clung onto your hope, you clung onto the promise you had made and never once stopped or faltered in your thoughts. He had to come back. He couldn't leave you. 

You never left his side, practically moving into the hospital and claiming the chair by his bed as your home; you often fell asleep with your hand holding his, his lifeless fingers laced with yours and your eyes heavy and dulled from crying. The bandages around his torso were an eyesore, but you knew that the doctors were doing everything and anything they could to help him; on the ninth day, Lee woke up, eyes heavy and strained as he groaned and seethed when he tried to sit up. 

"Welcome to the land of the living," you joked weakly, a sad smile on your lips. "How'd you feel?" 

"Parched," Lee growled hoarsely, grumbling in gratitude when you passed him a cup of water; he chugged it down, groaning and squeezing your hand a little. "I thought I was fucking dead…" 

"Everyone did," you told him. "But I wasn't gonna let you leave so soon. I couldn't leave without you." 

"That's because you're fucking stubborn," he joked, his voice cracked and hoarse and strained. 

"My stubbornness saved your life," you stated, shaking your head and gently pushing him down when he tried to sit up properly. "You were shot full of bullet holes, Lee, you need to rest… you've been in a coma for a week." 

"Fuck me…" he grumbled, sighing heavily; it was then that he noticed your clothes, they were clean, but they were the exact same ones you had worn on the day he was shot. Your hair was a greasy mess, and your cheeks were stained by the smudges tears had made on your skin. Your eyes were dull and puffy and red, glossed over like they had been polished. He frowned. "I take it you haven't been home, yet." 

"No," you admitted. "Amy's looking after the house for me… when I said I wasn't gonna leave you, I meant it." 

Tiredly, he nodded, looking over at the blanket and the empty cans of Red Bull and coffee cups. Clearly, the nurses and doctors had been looking after you as much as they had him. "You could've at least had a fucking shower." 

"You're an asshole," you chuckled, standing up and bending over to kiss his forehead sweetly. "But you're my asshole… go back to sleep. I'll still be here." 

"I know you will," he winced. "Where's Maeve, and Hector?" 

You shrugged, wondering what did ever become of them. "I'm pretty sure they got away… they tried to take me with them, but… I refused." 

Lee sighed heavily, letting out a seethe at the pain in his side. "You should've gone with them." 

"I couldn't," you replied, "as much as you begged me to, I wasn't gonna just up and leave you." 

He rolled his eyes, letting out a murmur of a curse at the pain he was in. "You saved my life, but you fucking risked your own doing it." 

"And it was worth it," you defended. "As much of an asshole as you can be, I love you, Lee, and that's not gonna change. I might've risked my life to save you, but you know what?" 

"What?" 

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat." 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

It took a few extra weeks for Lee to get back on his feet, physiotherapy and sessions with doctors to make sure that he was healing properly; he had to use a cane because of the damage done to his side, but when they said he could go home, you were overjoyed. The drive to the house was quiet, Lee slept the entire time, but when you pulled up to the drive, you cried with the joy that he wasn't dead and that he was with you. Alive. He was safe. He was with you. 

Greeting Amy at the drive, you hugged her tightly and thanked her profusely before she helped you to help Lee inside, choosing to loiter in the kitchen. 

"Everyone thinks you're both dead," she told you, biting at her lip. "But the doctors and nurses at the hospital were all paid to make sure that no one knew you were there." 

"Where'd you get the money?" You asked, furrowing your brows. 

She shifted on her feet. "The Ford estate. They owed me some money, enough to cover it all." 

You nodded, looking over at Lee before looking back at your friend. "You know I'll never be able to pay you back-" 

"I don't wanna be paid," she assured, shaking her head and waving her hand. "I'm just glad you're both okay. That's enough payment." 

You hugged her again, tightly and securely as you whispered your thanks before she went on her way, leaving you and Lee alone in the silence of the house; he cleared his throat, then, still groggy and unused to being awake and alive. 

"Speaking of payment… I think I owe you something for saving my life," he suggested, raising his eyebrows and letting a smirk fall onto his lips. 

You smiled at him, shaking your head and placing your hand on his chest as you licked your lips. "As amazing as that sounds, you've still got some healing to do." 

"I feel fine," he told you with a shrug, wincing when the pain coursed through his veins. "Fit as a fucking fiddle." 

You rolled your eyes, kissing his cheek as you traced his chest a little, ghostly touches that made him shiver beneath your fingertips. "The doctors said no strenuous activity for at least two weeks. I almost lost you once, I'm not risking it again, I'm not risking you getting hurt again." 

"Two weeks?" He whined, grumbling and reaching a hand up to swipe down his face. He needed to shave, badly. "Fuck, I need a shave…" 

"Go sit down," you told him gently, guiding him to the living room and the sofa, letting him place his cane against the arm as he sat down with a little grumble, worrying you slightly. "I'll be back in a second." 

You disappeared into the upstairs bathroom, the sounds of cupboards closing echoing through the walls before you came back down and stood behind him. 

"Come on, love, I can shave myself," he said when you showed him the bottle of shaving cream and the razor. 

"I know," you said sweetly, a smile on your lips. "But I wanna do it." 

With a soft laugh, Lee rolled his eyes, you always did like it when he let you shave his facial hair when it went past being stubble, and he certainly didn't mind the close proximity when you sat down beside him, gently applying the cream along the offending long hairs before tenderly running the razor blade across it; it was a quiet moment, neither of you caring much for talking as you did your best to concentrate, and he did his best to suppress the instinct to pull you onto his lap. You made sure to not trim it too short, as he always did like a little bit of stubble, and you were happy to make sure that he had it that way; producing a rag from your back pocket, you wiped his face, making sure to kiss him between each swipe of the cloth. 

"Thank you," he whispered, grabbing your hands and holding them close to his chest; those two words meant more than anything, as they showed his gratitude for everything you had done for him - from Amy ensuring that Delos wouldn't come after you, to saving his life, and even trimming his facial hair. 

"I made a promise," you replied quietly, "and I have no intentions of breaking it any time soon, I… I love you." 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

"How'd you feel?" You asked, shielding the sun from your eyes as you walked to the bottom of the garden where Lee was sat, trying his best to write as he sat in the sun, wearing a button up shirt that was undone, lounging on the chair, his cane on the floor, crushing the soft grass. 

"I've lost my genius," he sighed, tossing the notebook onto the table and groaning, covering his eyes with his hand as he leaned his head back. "It's fucking gone, love, it's gone." 

You frowned a little, propping him up for a moment so you could sit down and allow him to fall into your lap as you grabbed the notebook and started reading; the words were filled with gore and violence, but you couldn't deny that they were beautifully crafted and brilliantly thought out. You used your free hand to run through his hair as you hummed. "I don't think it is… actually, this is  _ better  _ than that shitty narrative Ford had you write about - what was it? Some old slaver?"

"An old slaver who asks guests to go to his homestead and find his ledger, pocket watch, and gun," he grumbled, he had always hated that narrative, and always groaned whenever a guest had participated in it. "But it's not that great, love… it's fucked." 

"You just need some time," you assured, looking down into his beautiful cobalt eyes and smiling. "You've been through a lot, it's really no surprise that writing's gonna be hard for you. You just need to relax, let it come naturally." 

"Everything about me comes naturally," he growled, a slight teasing tone in his voice as he sighed. "While you're here, though, there's something I need to tell you… there's a question I've wanted to ask but couldn't because all that shit kicked off." 

"Do tell," you hummed, leaning your head back and feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. 

"I was gonna ask if you wanted to get married," he started, "I had it all planned out and it was gonna be fucking amazing, I even managed to get reservations at that fancy place in town that we could never afford, I even went out and got a fucking ring, but… I fucking left it in my trousers." 

"I'd marry you," you agreed. "I'd marry you in a heartbeat, Lee." 

He shot up, wincing a little as he propped himself up and looked at you, that dashing and dazzling smile on his lips. "Then let's do it. Let's fuck off and get married, sell this place, and move somewhere no one will ever fucking find us." 

You chuckled, placing your hand on his chest as you leaned forward and kissed him sweetly. "Before we do any of that, I think we should probably plan it." 

"I'll do the planning," he shrugged with a grumble of pain. "Fuck knows how long I've waited for this, (y/n), fuck knows how long I've wanted you to be my spouse." 

"Lee, we can't just jump into this," you told him, your smile never faltering. "We'll start planning tomorrow, alright? I'll get Amy and Patricia over to give us a hand and help." 

He nodded, mumbling in agreement before pulling you close and pretending not to notice the stabbing pain in his side. "I can't fucking wait to marry you." 

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

The wedding itself took almost a week to plan, but it was all worth it on the day, when Lee saw you walking down the aisle, your arm linked with Amy's as she did her best not to cry, overwhelmed by your happiness; it was all worth it when you saw Lee at the alter, leaning on his cane and dressed in a fine and beautifully tailored suit. 

It was a quick reception, though, as the house had been sold after three days on the market, and the two of you had purchased a little cottage out near Pontypridd and had intended to go there right after the wedding; it was exhilarating and exciting and exhausting in the best way, and although he couldn't carry you over the threshold of the new house, it was still more than worth it. 

No one would have guessed that Lee would have survived after what went down in Westworld, and although you both had nightmares about it, your love was as unchanging as the sea, and you couldn't help but to constantly be thankful that he had, indeed, survived and he had married you; no one would have guessed that either of you would have come so far and had managed to escape the madness and finally achieve peace. 


End file.
